


ripe

by rensshi



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cunnilingus, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-29 17:57:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20440136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rensshi/pseuds/rensshi
Summary: Opportunity circles around Seokmin in a curve drawn by Xu Minghao. It starts with him and like everything that Minghao puts his mind to with steely-eyed determination, things go back to him. When he told Seokmin he’d help him get laid, to put it crudely, Minghao delivers.





	ripe

**Author's Note:**

> this is VERY self-indulgent I just wanted to write about dk and sexual exploration. was sitting for months in my wip folder uncooked. writing a lot of porn usually stresses me out but it turns out I had a lot of fun writing this so ??
> 
> other things and warnings i haven't included in the tags are: blowjobs, vaginal sex, rimming, alcohol usage although not underage, or excessive in my opinion. practice safe sex kids !!!!!

Seokmin’s heart tends to be a solid 9 on a 10-point mess potential scale. In freshman year, he’d mourned the hickeys under his shirt collar the morning after Yerin rejected him when he’d asked her out after the third time they’d hooked up.

“So you miss sex?” Soonyoung asked. Minghao was absorbed in a faceoff with the blank page of his sketchbook next to him. Mingyu didn’t even look up from his phone.

Soonyoung’s empathy wiped away Seokmin’s brain-to-mouth filter. It’s also been a year-long dry spell. 

“Um yeah? It’s not even really missing dating, it’s just—sex in general on some days,” Seokmin admitted easily, resting his chin in his hand, and mind already drifting to the pizza place he’s going to later with Mingyu, until Minghao’s voice snapped him back to reality.

“That can be taken care of,” Minghao said, watched Seokmin’s face for any signs of discomfort. “I can hook you up with people, if you’re really interested. People who just also want a good time and nothing more.”

Seokmin didn’t want it _ that _bad. But he'd let Minghao orchestrate things out of curiosity.

Weeks later at a party in one of the frat houses that Mingyu‘s always trying to get roped into by the seniors, Minghao gets Seokmin and Saerom one of the musty guest rooms. 

It’s exactly why he needs friends. His friends are seriously great: Mingyu and Soonyoung? Shared the party invite to this humble abode so people could turn it upside down just for the day. And Minghao? A good word put here and there for Seokmin earlier, and Minghao is the real hero for having his back through his perceived bumbling awkwardness that Seokmin thinks he now embodies in front of people he finds insanely attractive. Most of the sex Seokmin has known was with his last girlfriend. From _ high school _. 

Seokmin is kind of freaking out a bit because this is _the _Lee Saerom, from his Advanced Music Theory class that he had with her last semester. Lee Saerom with her tongue down his throat like she’s trying to chase something out of him. She tastes like raspberry vodka and Seokmin is dizzy from how she’s pressed up against his crotch, sitting on his lap at the edge of the bed and the arousal almost hurts, the pleats of her pink tennis skirt shifting as she circles her hips against his hand in between her legs. 

When she’s slipped out of her underwear, skirt hitched up and she’s straddling Seokmin again, she notices his hesitance this time. Takes Seokmin’s wrist, guides his hand up her soft inner thigh.

“Just touch me,” Saerom murmurs, her sharp eyes turned liquid when she smiles at him. Her expression turns shy again, like she was before they kissed outside in the throng of the party. She’d angled Seokmin’s head to kiss him, her grip in his hair rough but he’d liked it that way. Found it amusing too how Seokmin’s eyes wandered to Minghao halfway through their making out.

“Touch me and I’ll tell you what feels good,” she whispers, her sticky glossed lips brushing his as she talks.

So Seokmin does. He slides his fingers over her folds, his throat going tight with how smooth and wet she is and his mind grasps onto the next calming thing he knows right now: Minghao’s advice. _ If she tells you how to do something, you do it. Hey, it’s not like you haven’t done this before so don’t look at me like that, _ Minghao had said, trying not to laugh at the bemused expression Seokmin had given him. Seokmin listens with full attention when Saerom tells him how she likes it. When he taps against her clit and rubs with the lightest pressure, she whimpers into his mouth. 

He’s slipped a finger into her warmth slowly at her request. When she inhales sharply, Seokmin stops. “Is this okay? I could stop,” he says into her hair where she’s buried her face into his neck. 

“Don’t,” is her muffled reply and the look on her face when she raises her head again is all he needs to slide out of her slow, and start pumping. She’s so _ wet _. Seokmin is hyperaware of how his fingers are slick up to his knuckle, the smell of her apple fruity shampoo sweet in the air.

Her breathing gets staggered, even more erratic until she climbs off him and lies on the bed, her skirt fanning around her pale hips. From where Seokmin is, he can see her cunt now, swollen and dark. He swallows when she spreads her legs wider. _ Don’t chicken out if she tells you don’t stop, _ Minghao’s advice rings through Seokmin’s head out of nowhere and of course Saerom huffs “I didn’t tell you to stop.” She laughs a bit at the look on his face, her hand outstretched for him as an invitation for Seokmin to shift closer. 

Her legs fall open to the sides even more when Seokmin crooks his fingers, pumps faster into her. Seokmin is enthralled. She’s moaning softly now, bitten back with her eyes screwed shut and still so sexy. His forearm is starting to ache, when all of a sudden, she tells him to stop.

“Eat me out?” Saerom proposes out of nowhere, and Seokmin scrambles onto the bed, knowing it’s not a question. 

The potent smell of sex from her cunt hits him, makes him dizzy for it. Seokmin licks up at her with little to no idea about what he’s doing but she helps him through it again, is openly responsive to where he licks and sucks, tongue slipping into her pussy occasionally with her skirt bunched up in his hands around her hips until she’s grinding her clit against his tongue, moaning loud enough to fill the corners of the room. Seokmin can barely hear the music reverberating through the walls anymore from the party outside because he’s just surrounded by her. Saerom tangles her fingers into his hair so he must be doing this right.

Seokmin wonders dimly if anyone can hear them, if Minghao can hear them if he passes by. Seokmin can picture the satisfied look and the twitch of a smile on Minghao’s face when Saerom had pushed Seokmin down on to the bed and sat on his lap.

He opens his mouth wider, the weight of her thighs straining against his jaw until Saerom finally comes, Seokmin humming against her folds. The liquid smears over his chin and her legs momentarily crush the sides of his face as her body curls from her orgasm. There's an ache around his jaw, and the taste of her lingers when he licks his lips. Seokmin is so dazed that he doesn’t quite register that he did _ that _ even when Saerom shifts down on the mattress to unzip his pants.

“So how are things?” 

Seokmin pretends he has no idea what Soonyoung’s asking. “Stop looking at me like that,” he says, propping up his borrowed reference book so it covers Soonyoung’s annoying grin across him at this bustling coffee shop.

“Aw, don’t be like that Seoku.”

The nickname makes Seokmin lower down his book. “Things are great. I think, as any twenty-two year old in college trying to have a good time, like I’m glad I’ve lived?” Seokmin says, tugging at the collar of his crew neck.

“You say that like you’ll never get the chance again,” Soonyoung snorts.

“You know I’m not—good at this casual sex thing. Not for long at least,” Seokmin explains. Frankly, he still can’t believe last Friday happened. Saerom had given him one last peck on the mouth after she’d tried in vain to smooth down the gentle creases in her skirt. After she left the room, Seokmin still trying to fix his clothes, Minghao poked his head in to check on him.

“You good?” Minghao asked, and Seokmin shouldn’t have been but he’d felt self-conscious about the state of his hair, his crumpled button-up at the hem. 

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks,” Seokmin said, something weird rising in his throat and Minghao gives him a happy smile, all pleased and assured and proud.

“Too bad. Because there’s another party that Minghao’s inviting us to, one of his friends is having a birthday party after midterms. You should go,” Soonyoung tells him, wiggling his eyebrows.

Minghao drops it on Seokmin so casually that Seokmin is inclined to react with the same composure.

“So there _ might _be someone who’s down for some fun for next Saturday. I think you might enjoy her company,” Minghao prods, when they’re short cutting across the courtyard round the tiny fountain on campus through smaller facility buildings to get to the arts building faster.

“You think?”

“Well, she’s nice. Easy to talk to, really sweet,” Minghao’s face sours trying to fish around for a richer description of a stranger. But coming from Minghao, Seokmin is inclined to trust him, shrug and take it as face value. 

“A lot of people are nice. My standards aren’t that low,” Seokmin protests, hand over his heart dramatically.

Minghao scoffs but it sounds like a midway snort of laughter disguised. “I never said that. You deserve to just enjoy the nice company. Different company. Anyway, you'll meet her at Yuqi's party,” Minghao says, a hand around Seokmin’s shoulder, warm and steady in the chilly weather. 

“Will you introduce us?” Seokmin can’t disguise the growing anticipation in his voice.

“Of course,” Minghao grins.

Opportunity circles around Seokmin in a curve drawn by Xu Minghao. It starts with Minghao and like everything that Minghao puts his mind to with steely-eyed determination, things go back to him. When he told Seokmin he’d help him get laid, to put it crudely, Minghao delivers. Seokmin shook his head, called Minghao scary, to which Minghao shrugged.

“You and your friend are cute,” Miyeon says to him, her fingers being extremely distracting when they skim up Seokmin’s bare spine and down again until she’s tugging down his underwear. 

“Myungho? Everyone finds him”—intimidating, less so than people like Junhui or Seokmin’s roommate, Jeonghan on first impressions but Minghao is someone who everyone kind of wished they were friends with sometimes, even if his unbridled attention and loyalty was hard won. 

“Well, he’s cool,” Seokmin finishes lamely, sighing as Miyeon kisses along his jaw, his eyes falling on the fairy lights around her bedpost, unlit, and the random schedules with some still titled 2018 up on her wall. It calms the slight nerves he has; they’d met because Minghao was friends with Miyeon’s roommate, who is still at the party and was set to spend the night at her girlfriend’s. Of course, Minghao pushed him into going home with Miyeon when she offered. Minghao’s right; Miyeon is the nicest person Seokmin has met in a while, her voice crisp and fond and unsurprisingly, Seokmin’s type. Minghao smirked like he’d known all along. It gets to Seokmin sometimes, how attentive Minghao is. He kind of wants that attentiveness for himself, used to wonder what it would be like if he could read people first before wearing his thoughts out loud in bright colors. 

Seokmin has his hands digging into the pastel yellow bedsheets with the pretty petunia patterns lined on it, and Miyeon’s under him with her legs wrapped around his waist, squeezing in an urge to get him to fuck into her faster. She comes with her own fingers on her clit and her cry turning into a stuttered sob when Seokmin slams into her, her back arching beautifully.

“You haven’t?” She hums lazily, looking down as Seokmin slides out slowly, dick still very much hard.

His voice is rough, slurred with more honesty when he’s like this and still aching. “It kind of takes me a while,” Seokmin tells her.

Miyeon’s eyes are half-lidded, post-coital satisfaction in the air around her clearing up a bit when she looks over Seokmin. “I can help with that.”

It’s what happens next that throws him off and nearly makes him topple off her bed, literally. Right after he’s taken care of the condom, Miyeon pushes Seokmin over so he’s lying down with his legs spread and he’s totally fine—more than fine with her mouth on his cock, licking down at the underside, at his balls until her fingers trace downwards past his perineum and his hips jolt upwards.

“Are you gonna?”— he squeaks, eyes widening at the ceiling, face going incredibly hot after he catches her staring calmly between his legs, like she’s deliberating on what to do. 

“Have you ever tried getting eaten out?” Miyeon asks, lashes fluttering when she blinks up at him. She has a gentle hand on Seokmin like she’s trying not to scare him and god, her hand looks tiny on his own thigh, a pretty contrast of delicacy and firmness.

“No,” Seokmin manages to say. 

“Do you want to try it?”

Seokmin almost forgot: 

“If you’re not comfortable with anything, it’s okay to say so,” Minghao told him once when Seokmin had been loose-tongued in a quiet drinking session meant for Minghao alone that Seokmin had joined. Seokmin stared at the ring on Minghao’s index finger, noticed his habit again of stroking the band with his thumb. "It’s weird if someone does it for you the first time but what’s new." 

“Yeah. Sure. We can do that,” Seokmin breathes anyway.

Miyeon starts licking around his rim, her tongue swiping past it so he can get used to the feeling. And then she hums softly, the sound going through him, delicious and tingling. The next five, ten, maybe even fifteen minutes goes by with Seokmin whimpering as Miyeon’s licking over his asshole, face unbelievably hot from the saliva he can feel dribbling down. Seokmin’s keeping his eyes closed and thinking he can get used to another person doing this for him. He’s fingered himself enough times to know the feeling when she has a lubed finger in him sliding in and out. It takes a little while before she finds what makes Seokmin clench tighter around her and he moans loud and broken. It’s like a coil stretched in his limbs, nerves wired up high when he can’t take it anymore and wraps his hand over his own cock. 

Miyeon resurfaces, her pink lipstick ruined now. “You really like that?” She asks, her eyes wide as she watches Seokmin tug at his own dick.

“Yeah I do, please continue, please,” Seokmin babbles and moans when she lowers her head again.

Seokmin’s heart almost fucking jumps out his throat when her finger disappears and her tongue prods his entrance, pushing at it just enough to tease but never going any further. 

“Fuck fuck fuck—” The curses tumble out of his mouth. Then it comes out as a pleading “Fuck me, please.”

Miyeon hums, the sound sending gentle waves through him. She raises her head. “Fuck you like this?” Seokmin feels her fingers tapping his rim again, and he tightens over nothing, the muscles in his abs straining at the emptiness he feels.

“Yeah yeah,” Seokmin stutters, his head hazy. “What you were doing was good.” She could finger him open and Seokmin would be more than content now.

Some numb part of his mind is thinking how lucky he is, that he’s gotten his ass eaten out by someone as gorgeous as Miyeon and the train of thought implodes into itself when she’s settled on fingering him carefully, steadily while he gets his own hand around his cock again and starts jerking himself. He sobs at the wrenching relief it brings. 

He’s never really thought of a girl doing this to him, has only thought about the possibility of a faceless man fucking into him while he’s on his hands and knees. It’s never happened but he can dream. He’s dreamed about unattainable men when he has the shower all to himself on the mornings he’s particularly horny. He thinks about Minghao’s voice, guiding him through it. It’s not even that much of a sexy thought but it gets him going, makes his hand on himself go faster. Minghao’s long fingers, Minghao telling him how good he looks, that keeps him on the edge, body tight and wired.

“You’re loud you know that?” Miyeon says, sounding amused.

“Huh?”

“I like it,” Miyeon reassures, biting her lip in concentration as she pumps her finger faster again, gets the pace that makes Seokmin react. He didn’t even know he could _ be _this loud. 

Miyeon’s nails are digging into the hard muscle of his thighs straining, fingerpads pressing at the spot inside Seokmin that keeps him rambling things like _ fuck, right there, yes _. His orgasm finally comes crashing down, as Seokmin comes all over himself, warmth spattering his stomach.

“_How _does Myungho get you these girls? How?” Mingyu stares at Seokmin, mouth open in disbelief like the surprised pikachu meme.

“Did you forget sophomore year?” Seokmin says by way of a response, staring at the little oven where Mingyu’s soufflés are baking. He’s always been fascinated watching them rise, as if he was baking them himself. 

“When he was wilder and flexed his language barrier to his advantage to be cute? And always took care of the tab first so people were helplessly charmed? How could I forget,” Mingyu affirms, crouching down to join Seokmin in their staring contest with the soufflés. 

Minghao’s dialed down ever since junior year started and he decided to seriously start focusing on maintaining his GPA. Meanwhile, people take one look at someone like Mingyu and still think that on some days, a guy like him friends with frat seniors, is the one with all the links and connections. But Seokmin’s friends are unpredictable; Mingyu is happily dating Jung Eunwoo, which means he’s less inclined to really pay attention to Seokmin’s now active sex life. Minghao still sits beside Seokmin at the library, doodling in his sketchbook, while Seokmin does his research papers, nothing having changed, at least on the surface.

Ever since his night spent with Miyeon, he’s been fingering himself whenever he gets the chance to. More often than not, Minghao slips in and joins the haze of sexual imagery Seokmin has when he’s getting himself off that way.

The first time Seokmin had met Minghao in an MT for their batch, he wasn’t sure if they’d have anything in common. They’d added each other on Facebook, but Seokmin having met so many people, kind of forgets about him. Three weeks after that MT, Seokmin had no choice but to commit Xu Minghao to memory when they met again outside their dorm building when there was a fire alarm—Seokmin in a shirt and boxers and Minghao in those bathrobes he always saw his rich, wine-peddling grandaunt walking around in during vacation at his older cousins’ house. It turns out that Minghao does love wine, and Seokmin is only vaguely surprised. 

He’s more fascinated; in the way Minghao presents himself, the way he’s learning not to be ashamed when he stumbles over a Korean phrase he isn’t too familiar with, but politely apologetic and willing to correct himself. Even when he’s embarrassed, he plays it off well, only a hint of red on his face and eyebrows creasing together adorably. The old aunties he tries to help when they’re getting on public buses love him. 

“There are plenty of people who think you’re cute too,” Minghao says, grimacing when Seokmin pinches one of Minghao’s cheeks gently but doesn’t flinch from his touch.

Seokmin can still pinpoint when the fascination crosses over to twisted curiosity. 

They’d been out at a club, and Seokmin had walked in on the men’s room on the third, fourth or tenth floor. He can’t remember where exactly. It had taken forever to climb the winding staircase, tipsy, away from the thumping music to the cleaner restrooms upstairs.

Mingyu had asked him where Minghao was when he came back. Seokmin thought about Minghao’s mouth and chin still glistening, hair sticking out in places when he’d emerged from one of the cubicles at the same time Seokmin entered the room. Wondered if the guy Minghao had been with could taste himself on Minghao’s lips. He’s seen Minghao make out with girls, stumbled upon a guy mouthing Minghao’s neck once in the corner of another club but somehow this is different. Of course, Mingyu gave Seokmin a wolfish grin when he squeaked out a response like _restroom, Minghao, busy_, to which Mingyu replied _nice._

It’s this image of Minghao’s lips, shiny and wet, that comes unbidden when Seokmin has a hand in his pajama pants when Jeonghan is out for the night. The image comes and goes like a flash flood, the sleepy waves post-orgasm having washed it away before he can think about it any further.

He’s not thinking about it now when Minghao’s lips graze his earlobe when he leans in to Seokmin, clutching his drink tighter.

“You don’t have to overthink this,” he’s saying in a clear voice, and Seokmin’s eyes flicker over to where Jung Jaehyun is making his way back to where Seokmin is, having been dragged away by Choi Seungcheol, captain of the soccer team earlier. Seungcheol’s been oblivious to how Jaehyun’s been responding to Seokmin’s attempts at flirting, but in the buzz of movement, and Minghao’s light touch on Seokmin’s waist, Seokmin doesn’t really mind. 

“I’m still having fun,” Seokmin declares, tipping his head back and blinking happily up at the fluorescent lights, too bright for his own liking when he’s tipsy like this. Jihoon, Seungcheol and Wonwoo’s shared unit isn’t really what people would call suited for parties but the music was always great so long as Seungcheol and Wonwoo let Jihoon take care of that.

“Are you having fun?” Seokmin asks.

“So far,” Minghao replies absently, his drink still half full. His eyes are wandering, probably looking for Jihoon to ask where they stored the good stuff that Minghao likes drinking. He licks his lips like he’s trying to get used to this brand of gin he doesn’t really know. 

Seokmin just wants to wipe away the faint smear of red lipstick on the corner of his mouth from where a girl with choppy bangs and slurred Mandarin spilling out of her mouth, had kissed Minghao earlier. _ It’s just Kyulkyung, _ Minghao said. _ We messed around a bit in freshman year, but we were never a thing. _The touch of red, fleeting and shared, doesn’t even look out of place on him, manages to make Minghao look more attractive.

Fleeting thoughts are alright. Fleeting is what Seokmin thinks Jaehyun is, when he’s in front of Seokmin again. It’s easy to not think about the consequences, until you’ve dipped your toes in something.

Or in Seokmin’s case, ankle-deep with him kissing Jaehyun, tongue laving over his teeth while Minghao’s hands are still on Seokmin’s waist. Jaehyun, with the tang of flavored soju on his tongue, kisses back the way Seokmin can feel Minghao’s eyes on them both; a burning intensity, like hot liquid down his chest and a funny thrill when Minghao meets his gaze after Jaehyun pulls away. There’s sweat shining down Jaehyun’s neck and his Adam’s apple that makes Seokmin want to taste. Minghao patting him on the back by way of encouragement is all he needs.

“Wait wait wait, you’re friends with Mingyu?” Seokmin utters, as Jaehyun’s mouthing his neck, taking his damn sweet time with sucking hickeys onto the delicate skin in the privacy of a bathroom. 

“Yeah, kind of. We’re not close though. Is that a problem?” Jaehyun asks, pulling away to look at him seriously. His eyes are even more gorgeous this way, watery under the lucid lights. 

Mingyu is like weak fuel for gossip but only because Jaehyun used to date Jung Chaeyeon who used to date Jeonghan, who doesn’t have to know about this. Mingyu is helpfully _ not _ at this party (down with the flu apparently but who’s guilty).

“Not really,” Seokmin decides, which earns him a killer smile from Jaehyun. 

Jaehyun seems to like taking his time with things, which renders Seokmin fully hard by the time he’s taking Seokmin in his mouth, and grunting around his cock. Seokmin looks down and groans, biting down on his bottom lip. Jaehyun is objectively the hottest guy he’s ever had the opportunity and correct alignment of the planets to hook up with. On top of a cake that Seokmin can’t believe he’s having, Jaehyun is the cherry on top, maybe_. _

It all still ends up full circle right in Seokmin’s face when he gets walked in on, his pants down and Jaehyun's mouth sliding down and up his cock again with a telltale loud suck.

“Shit, I’m _ so _sorry—” Minghao blurts out, face twisting and determinedly looking anywhere else while Jaehyun pulls off his cock, lips shiny and swollen. 

“No it’s okay,” Seokmin squeaks, and then he wishes he could shoot himself.

_ This has to be a dream, _Seokmin is thinking and hoping to God it's a dream. The air is deadly quiet and thick, only the rise and fall of their jagged breathing heard.

“He’s right,” Jaehyun rasps, licking his lips and still kneeling. “It’s fine. Want him to watch?” Jaehyun asks Seokmin, gauging his expression and rubbing his thumb against his hipbone. All this while Seokmin’s still got his dick out.

This can't be happening right now. Seokmin looks at Minghao, expression schooled into something careful, but ultimately curious. It’s the curiosity that makes Seokmin nod.

Seokmin is about to have a heart attack but it keeps itself from jumping through his chest when Minghao, maintains eye contact as Jaehyun licks hard at the underside of his cock. His lips go down to the base again and Seokmin moans, broken and desperate. Minghao’s gaze is steady, hand still gripping the doorknob of the closed door behind him but he’s frozen on the spot, the only indication of time moving being the way Minghao finally blinks (branding him less of a creep at the time, in retrospect), eyes burning into Seokmin and he knew Minghao’s been around and has his fair share of kinks, could hold Seokmin’s hand through a lot of things with quiet confidence that Seokmin didn’t have. But to suddenly fucking _ need _Minghao looking at him like this makes Seokmin whine at the same time Jaehyun swallows around his cock. 

He looks at Minghao like he can will him to keep standing there and watch how Seokmin’s throwing back his head in pleasure, hands threaded in Jaehyun’s hair. He feels an orgasm rising that way, and Seokmin can barely register that Minghao is finally backing away, a lovely red dusted on his cheeks that Seokmin wonders if he’s imagining. He groans when Jaehyun hums around his cock and then his eyes involuntarily squeeze themselves shut when he comes so hard against the wall that Jaehyun has to press his hands into his hips and keep him grounded there. 

By the time Seokmin opens his eyes, chest heaving and knees a little weak, the door’s closed like Minghao wasn’t ever there. 

“What the fuck,” Seokmin breathes, blinking at Jaehyun, who’s wiping his mouth.

“What?”

“Didn’t think you’d be into that,” Seokmin chokes out, letting Jaehyun crowd him against the wall, mouth curling into a gentle smile.

“You said it first. Did we scare off your friend?”

It’s the right thing to worry about, and Seokmin won’t be able to push the dread and fears from his mind. He doesn’t know what he’s scared about but, he knows he won’t be able to let it go.

Jaehyun seems to sense that as well. “Maybe you should go talk to him,” he suggests, leaning back to give Seokmin space. 

“I—Should I?” He wouldn’t know how to breach that. _ Myungho-ya, I’m so sorry you had to see that, and if I made you uncomfortable, we can forget that ever happened haha wanna see me balance tangerines on my forehead again because shit like that makes you laugh for some weird reason? _It doesn’t sit right in his chest, the memory of Minghao’s face as he’d watched Seokmin, eyes slightly darker on the edge of this precipice, held high.

Throughout all that, Seokmin suddenly feels so tired, coming down his alcohol buzz. 

“Oh God, I’m sorry,” Seokmin says, looking down at the tent in Jaehyun’s pants but Jaehyun grabs his wrist when Seokmin makes to reach for his beltline.

“Don’t be. You’re bothered,” Jaehyun murmurs, seemingly unfazed. “I thought you both were—you know, when you came in with your other friends.”

“We’re not like that,” Seokmin replies, frowning.

Jaehyun looks up at him from under his lashes when he leans over the sink a little as if to say _sure_. But his tentative smile becomes kind, keeps the awkwardness of this whole situation at bay a little longer over the silence as the tap water runs. Seokmin watches the way Jaehyun rinses his mouth and steals a little bit of the mouthwash on the top shelf, watches the visible shift in his back muscles under his thin shirt and still, his thoughts go back to the back of Minghao’s neck, Kyulkyung’s fingers tugging fondly at the long ends of his hair.

“Can I at least kiss you?” Seokmin would kind of hate to leave without that.

Jaehyun’s eyes widen in surprise but he nods. Seokmin curls a hand over the back of his neck and leans in close. Their parting kiss is sweet, Jaehyun’s lips cool and soft from the rinse and minty mouthwash. 

Seokmin weaves his way through people, until he finds Minghao in the kitchen leaning against the countertop, phone in one hand, drink in another. Ridiculously relaxed, composed, and terribly attractive.

Seokmin’s voice sticks in his throat when he tries to say his name. Minghao looks up, startling a little when he sees Seokmin standing there.

“You’re here,” he says plainly, frowning over Seokmin’s shoulder at nothing, like he’s expecting something. “Where’s—?”

“Not going home with him,” Seokmin says, not liking how the words taste on his mouth because he never really had the intention to go home with Jaehyun anyway.

Minghao’s breath comes out in a soft exhale. “Sorry, what happened earlier was weird, wasn’t it? I'm sorry,” Minghao says, stepping towards Seokmin. He looks guilty now and it makes Seokmin taste acid in his mouth.

“Yeah but, you—” Seokmin frowns, feeling stupider by the second. Maybe they'd been too drunk. This could have happened any other time, it was stupid, a heat of the moment thing. He glances at Minghao’s drink when he sets it on the counter. Well maybe not Minghao with his boss level alcohol tolerance.

Minghao waits, patient and still and almost infuriatingly calm like he’s got all the time in the world. 

And then Seokmin’s voice falters. “Nothing,” he utters. 

Minghao’s eyes seem to harden as he smiles, tight-lipped.

“Maybe I am a freak,” Seokmin breathes into the plate of kimbap he’s been offered at lunch. 

Junhui slides the plate back when Seokmin doesn’t take any, and pops one roll into his mouth. “And that’s a bad thing because…?” Junhui waits for Seokmin to say something. 

He’s thankful that Junhui hasn’t said anything along the lines of _ this is seriously a wet dream come true. _Mingyu and Soonyoung have heard the abridged versions of Seokmin's hookups, the last incident with Jaehyun (and Minghao?) omitted from the retellings. Jeonghan is just satisfied to know without the details that Seokmin has been genuinely enjoying himself without getting his heart broken. Seokmin is determined to keep Jeonghan’s limited knowledge capped at this point. And Junhui is—roommates with Minghao but reticent and unexpectedly empathetic when he can be in a way that Seokmin can trust to keep a secret or two. 

“I just have to know: has he done this for you before?”

Junhui’s nose wrinkles and he mimes a gagging motion. “I think my dick would shrivel if Minghao walked in on me getting a blowjob. So no,” he says. “What would you do if the situation had been reversed?”

Seokmin doesn’t really know what to say, except he’s scarily confident about an answer since his dick did _ not _shrivel up. 

“You’d like it?” Junhui asks, smiling slowly when Seokmin shifts testily in his seat.

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t deny it,” Junhui points out.

If Junhui is disturbed, he doesn’t show it. Instead, there’s a tiny frown creasing in between his brows while he’s slurping down his grape juice noisily.

“Are you freaked that I’m telling you this?” Seokmin asks after the silence gets to him.

“Not exactly. I just think you already know what your problem is. You’re just running in circles around it,” Junhui says slowly, choosing his words carefully.

“But I’m not confrontational,” Seokmin says, his head starting to hurt with how little sleep he’s gotten thinking about Minghao-related things.

“Neither am I,” Junhui says, giving a kind smile. “But if you don’t talk to him soon, this might end up in an actual threesome with Minghao and some poor stranger.” Seokmin gapes at him, trying to find words of protest. Admittedly, that night with Jaehyun vaguely imitated some porno plot Seokmin had seen when he was fifteen and his older cousin handed back his flash drive with a bunch of downloaded HD videos. He’d been so thankful said cousin from their better off side of the family only shows up and flies over to Korea like once every four years or something.

“Besides, can this really be called confrontational when—” Junhui stops talking, eyes hovering somewhere over Seokmin’s shoulder.

“What? Why are you all glare-y?” Seokmin asks, twisting around and scanning the cafeteria, finding nothing out of the ordinary with the only person recognizable being Jeon Wonwoo, who shares one class with Junhui, carrying a tray of food and sauntering like a zombie towards the tables. 

Seokmin is about to shoot his hand into the air and wave him over when Junhui whines out a contrived, “Don’t you dare.”

“Why not? I thought you sorted out your differences after that project. You guys were hanging out and all last Friday at the party,” Seokmin says incredulously. Junhui has been harboring a different undercurrent of tension ever since he had agreed to partner up with Wonwoo for a project worth half their final grade in their course at the start of the semester. Their first meeting over a disastrous order mixup at a milktea shop had given Wonwoo, who just happened to be having an unbearably shitty day at the time, the false impression that Junhui was a milktea drink stealer and Junhui the impression that Wonwoo was a jerk. 

“Was he being nice again? You were getting all cozy at the party,” Seokmin says, unable to stop himself from grinning at the way Junhui flinches at this.

“He was alright, cool. Friday was—fun,” Junhui says, clearing his throat when Wonwoo finally spots them and starts walking towards their table.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Wonwoo notes, throwing a glance at Junhui who purses his lips and takes one of the two cider cans Wonwoo has on his tray wordlessly. Seokmin is about to ask since when did Wonwoo start liking cider drinks when he says to Seokmin, “You look like you’ve been seeing ghosts the past few days” while staring at his disheveled hair.

“People have problems,” Seokmin grumbles miserably.

“You just have one big one,” Junhui says happily, and Seokmin wants to faceplant himself into the table.

“Then we can start a non-confronting loser club then, just you and me. You want in, hyung?” Seokmin turns to Wonwoo, who doesn’t seem like he’s checked into the conversation at all but he looks up at Seokmin.

“This sounds like an AA,” Wonwoo says. 

“You could also learn a thing or two,” Junhui offers, smiling close-lipped at Wonwoo.

Seokmin closes his eyes when Wonwoo gives Junhui a strange glare that lasts a second too long. They all really do deserve to join this loser club. 

“Well, okay. I’m going,” Seokmin announces, stuffing his phone into his pocket and zipping up his backpack properly when Wonwoo belatedly mutters a retort, all quiet bark and no bite in his tone. 

“Seokmin-ah,” Junhui says before Seokmin leaves. “I think it’s okay to be straightforward about it. Minghao can handle it,” he says quietly but firmly, and Seokmin’s heart constricts wanting desperately to believe him.

Seokmin contemplates waiting one more week until Minghao’s early birthday celebration, but as it goes, he’s not very patient. He’s paced holes into the floor of his dorm room, until Jeonghan slams his laptop shut and decides to take satisfaction to make up for lost study time by hearing Seokmin admit that yes, all those times he spent staying late at Minghao’s place was so that he could watch him cut holes and sleeves off his thrifted designer clothes and undress repeatedly, in front of Seokmin. Talk about oblivious.

There’s this thing that Minghao’s hosting, according to Mingyu, some kind of casual gathering at Minghao and Junhui’s place that’s supposed to be for their Chinese international student friends. Seokmin almost lets this fly over his head as unimportant information until he finds out that Mingyu, Wonwoo, and Bambam and Ten—both international students from _ Thailand _—are going.

“I didn’t get to go to Jihoon hyung’s party the last time so get in line, Seokmin,” Mingyu huffs, sticking his nose up in the air while Seokmin wrings his hands in a strangling gesture behind Mingyu's back. Seokmin gets invited via text from Minghao anyway the day before. He stares at the words on his screen, and wonders if the invitation was a last minute afterthought.

But he shows up.

“Are you quitting the club?” Junhui asks, smiling when he lets Seokmin in. “He’s in the kitchen,” Junhui says, waving his hand in the appropriate direction when Seokmin is obviously too choked up to answer.

Minghao has his back to him, discussing something in rapid Mandarin with a guy Seokmin recognizes as Minghao’s classmate this sem in one of his dance classes. Minghao turns around, still talking and stops abruptly when he sees Seokmin. This is horribly reminiscent of last week, in somebody else’s kitchen, liquor on the island, tension so thick Seokmin would need a knife to cut it.

Minghao recovers first, as usual. “You made it. You didn’t reply so I didn’t think you would,” he says softly. Minghao’s friend claps him on the back carrying a whiskey bottle, says something on his way out that Seokmin can’t understand. 

“What is it, Seokmin-ah?” Minghao finally says now that they’re alone. He doesn’t look annoyed, or uncomfortable. Just concerned, eyes searching Seokmin’s face.

The tension diffuses into something stronger, more forceful. It pulls Seokmin towards Minghao, like a magnet.

“I just want to know. Would you do that again?” Seokmin asks, and he’s glad he doesn’t have to explain because Minghao doesn’t waste his time playing dumb.

Minghao’s back straightens, like he’s steeling himself for his own answer. “No,” he murmurs. “Not if there’s another person.”

Seokmin stares at him, grasps onto every inching thread of clarity he can get. “You—you were okay with it happening. You helped me out with other people too. And then you looked at me like you wanted to kiss me,” Seokmin finishes. He’s digging a hole for himself to fall into. A strange expression flits over Minghao’s delicate features, lips parting slightly in surprise and even then, it’s fascinating to just watch. 

Minghao practically jumps into that hole, coming full circle with Seokmin. He steps forward and takes Seokmin’s chin in his fingers, Seokmin’s lips already parted at the mere touch. And then Minghao is kissing him, firm and sure with a pleasant undercurrent of energy that he’s holding back. He breaks away before Seokmin can react. The rest of their surroundings fall away when Seokmin leans in and kisses Minghao, chaste and quick.

“What was that for?” Minghao asks, breath smelling only faintly like liquor, and it’s a weird mix with the scent of his expensive cologne but Seokmin only finds himself pathetically pressing up closer to him when Minghao’s hands tighten around Seokmin’s elbows.

“So we’re even?” Seokmin tries, trying to smile.

“Well. I’ll think about how to one-up that,” Minghao says like a promise, closing his eyes to kiss him again.

Seokmin’s idea of that is pulling Minghao gently along to the hallway, and making out, arms hooked around Minghao’s slender waist until he can’t breathe and Minghao’s face is a furious shade of red.

“Why didn’t we do this sooner?” Seokmin mumbles against Minghao’s lips and Minghao exhales a short laugh. Seokmin takes the opportunity to lick over his gums as he’s smiling.

“Got scared. You didn’t seem to want to date anyone,” Minghao says like it’s the most obvious thing. His hands travel down Seokmin’s torso, short fingernails scraping lightly against the soft skin at his waistband peeking out his of jeans, and there. There’s the burning look Minghao’s giving him when Seokmin gasps as a reaction. “And you were enjoying yourself.”

“You could take me out on a date,” Seokmin says hopefully. Minghao’s shoulders loosen, looking immensely relieved at Seokmin’s proposition, as if he thinks Seokmin might still say no if he asked. Seokmin pulls him by the wrist gently towards Minghao’s room. There’s a lot they should talk about. And maybe kiss some more while at it too. It’s so nice now for kisses to have weight in its giving, to feel a good kind of different he hasn’t felt in a long while among the people he’s been with.

“Hold on—” Minghao starts, but Seokmin has already turned the doorknob, the loud clack of the old metal scaring what’s already inside.

“Oh my god—” Seokmin yells—“I am soooo sorry—” 

“We aren’t fourteen-year-olds, god, _ chill _,” Wonwoo says with a dangerous glint in his eye aimed at Seokmin from the bed as Junhui snatches his hand away from under Wonwoo’s shirt, his leg still slotted up against Wonwoo's crotch.

“Well. This is practical,” Seokmin notes, standing in front of a flashy building, the obnoxiously displayed room rate promos below the signage all the more noticeable in the inky blue midnight. Seokmin peers at the promos and he still wouldn’t be able to afford the nice rooms on his own measly budget. He’s so glad he covered for condoms and the lube this time.

“You tend to get loud. The rooms here have decent soundproofing,” Minghao says, raising an eyebrow at Seokmin when he starts coughing violently at this.

But Minghao’s right; Seokmin is embarrassingly responsive when Minghao’s doing things at his apartment unit to make Seokmin’s toes curl, and the ridiculous thing is that they haven’t even actually had sex yet.

Fingering and blowjobs didn’t count. But the fingering—the fingering lives up to all those fantasies Seokmin had about Minghao’s hands, pretty mouth pressing kisses on his neck and face as he pounds into Seokmin with two fingers up his ass. 

“You okay?” Minghao asks, voice low and rough in Seokmin’s ear and his fingers start slowing.

Seokmin realizes he’s biting down on his lip, here and now in this nice spacious room that he can let himself go in.

But he feels like he’s going to be begging later on. He’s waited a month ever since Minghao and him had their first kiss, almost a month since their first date. It’s a pathetically short wait time but with Minghao, it feels too long.

“Saving my voice,” Seokmin manages to say through his harsh breathing.

“You look pretty like this,” Minghao tells him, and the compliment makes his cock twitch, makes Seokmin spread his legs wider as Minghao leans over, tongue swiping over Seokmin’s lips. “I always knew you’d look good like this.”

Seokmin huffs out a laugh, that cuts off to a high noise he’s never actually heard himself make before when he’s at that point again. He can’t come alone from the stretch, and this angle isn’t enough, Minghao probably knows it isn’t enough, so he usually makes do with stroking himself.

“Not yet, baby,” Minghao says and bats away Seokmin’s hand snaking down his own torso.

“But I can’t”— Seokmin hisses, air blowing out through his teeth when Minghao barely, just _ barely _brushes against the prostate. “Need this, I need you,” Seokmin pleads.

“How?”

Seokmin swallows hard, drinks in the sight of Minghao right now, the thin white shirt hanging off his shoulders, collarbones gleaming under the warm lighting and his bare slim thighs a nice contrast against Seokmin’s bigger legs.

“Can I suck you off?” 

Minghao bites his bottom lip and nods. He yanks off his underwear, pulls off his shirt, the light catching on the fluid shift in his sharp angles. He straddles Seokmin until his knees are lined up on either side of his neck. He hesitates at first, looking down at Seokmin with a tiny frown that disappears when he strokes himself in front of Seokmin’s face. 

“Sure?”

“S’already in my face,” Seokmin tells him, flashing a smile and Minghao lets out a shaky laugh. He’s nervous, Seokmin realizes.

“Do it for me, Hao,” Seokmin tells, leaning up so his mouth catches the head of Minghao’s cock, like a kiss and Minghao hisses out a low _ fuck. _

Seokmin opens his mouth for him, breathes through his nose. He holds Minghao’s narrow hips, feels the movement when he thrusts into Seokmin’s mouth, shallow, slow and experimental.

Minghao looks wrecked above him, and they’ve barely done anything. He keeps his movements slow, controlled, and Seokmin uses his tongue to lick all around the head, up and down the underside as Minghao slides himself in and out carefully. When Minghao moans quietly, Seokmin feels the pained want by ten times, shoots down to his own cock where it throbs at the sound.

“What do you want?” Minghao asks him, sliding out of his mouth, leaves Seokmin’s breathing ragged and uneven, spit and precum smeared over his chin.

“Fuck me,” he says, and Minghao climbs off him, only to position himself between his legs.

“Like this? Or?”

Seokmin blinks, not used to how much attention he’s getting, not really thinking about it until he’s asked. Minghao waits for an answer, skimming a hand up his forearm, kissing his shoulder. The reassuring gesture is nice, and distracting. 

He rolls over, spreads his legs with his ass facing Minghao, in the midst of the rustling of plastic and foil, the sound of liquid spurting as he buries his face into the pleasantly cool pillows.

Minghao’s hands are warm, surprisingly gentle when Seokmin expects him to be a little rougher when he grips Seokmin’s hips, brings him closer, his ass up higher and Seokmin’s clenching his teeth in anticipation. 

“Wow, you’re—really_ hard, _” Minghao murmurs, and Seokmin yelps when Minghao wraps a hand lightly around his cock under him. Seokmin is sure he’s fucking leaking down there too. He’s never wanted anything this much, so much that he just wants to sob into the pillow. Minghao squeezes Seokmin's hip, leans over his back to press a kiss between his shoulder blades. “Gonna do this slowly now okay?” Minghao tells him, the tip of his cock rubbing against Seokmin, who whines.

When Minghao’s cock gets past the rim, Seokmin already feels like he’s coming apart. He holds in his moans, focusing on getting used to the stretch when Minghao inches himself in nice and slow. Excruciatingly slow. Seokmin does what he’s told, keeps himself relaxed and breathing evenly until Minghao finally bottoms out after minutes, years, whichever.

When he finally starts fucking into Seokmin, Seokmin groans, lets the words of encouragement spill from his mouth. Minghao’s hands are scrabbling over Seokmin’s hips, trying to find an angle and _ there— _Seokmin loves it; the delicious slap of skin, the controlled force of Minghao’s hips. 

Minghao is panting behind him when he stops.

“I just wanna see you,” Minghao says before Seokmin can ask. 

“Right,” Seokmin pants, catching his breath as he settles on his back, untangles his legs from where they’ve collided with Minghao’s in a flurry of movement. Minghao starts laughing at this and Seokmin pinches his side gently in retaliation.

He hisses when Minghao pushes himself back into him, and god, the stretch of a full cock, nice and hard and pulsing like this is something else entirely. Minghao leans over and cages him in with his arms, and Seokmin moans at the angle, kisses Minghao where his mouth can reach his neck, his nose, lips, messy and needy before Minghao starts to move again. Seokmin’s begging now, _more, more, please, like that_ coming out of his mouth. Minghao’s really fucking into Seokmin, hard and fast, his hands on either side of Seokmin’s head, and it takes a moment before Seokmin realizes Minghao’s saying things. He's not usually vocal but like this, Seokmin thinks it's beautiful; Minghao's chest flushed red, bangs sticking to his forehead and voice uneven.

“You feel so nice, baby. So hot and tight,” Minghao breathes, and that makes Seokmin spread his legs wider, hooks his own knees up higher as Minghao’s hips slam against his faster.

“I’m gonna—fuck fuck fuck—” Seokmin gasps, and then cries, strangled and hoarse when he finally comes after Minghao starts stroking his cock in between them. The orgasm wrenches through his body in pulsing waves, and Seokmin going tight all over must do it for Minghao because he comes too, stilling while Seokmin can feel the throb of Minghao’s cock inside him.

Minghao’s one hand is covered a little in Seokmin’s cum but he licks at it, sucks his fingers clean and Seokmin loses all coherency, mouth open at that. Minghao kisses below his navel, his stomach, and licks at the cum there. Seokmin’s first instinct is to push him away, self-conscious that it’s a little gross but Minghao’s kisses go soft and sweet, no longer open-mouthed and tasting. Seokmin sighs and relaxes. Minghao just moves away to get a towel and get rid of the condom.

It feels like forever before Seokmin tries to get up and move.

“We have the whole night here. You can sleep,” Minghao whispers when he comes back to wipe at Seokmin. 

“You’re so prepared,” Seokmin mumbles, eyelids already heavy with the bone-deep satisfaction coursing through him. 

“You like it,” Minghao scoffs, prodding at Seokmin’s waist.

"Yeah I do," Seokmin says easily, burying his head into Minghao's chest.

“Hey Xu Minghao,” Seokmin says softly as Minghao’s shaking his head and smiling at him.

“What?”

“I like you. A lot.” Seokmin’s been starting to say that a lot lately.

It doesn’t stop Minghao from blushing lightly, a tender half-smile on his lips when he says "Lee Seokmin." He swallows audibly, but keeps his eyes on Seokmin's face. "I like you a lot too."

**Author's Note:**

> please don't kill me. comments and kudos are very much appreciated if you liked this. u can also hmu on [twitter](https://twitter.com/fractalkiss/) and cc @fractalkiss if you just want to talk!


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